


Bloody Sin

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:56:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4916857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Voldemort found a new way to become immortal, and Harry pays the price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody Sin

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings** : Major character death turned vampire, sexual assault, violence, horror themes
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This creation is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offense is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.
> 
>  **Notes:** I originally planned a happy story, then this happened. Poor Harry.

“Hello, come in,” Harry said with a smile, stepping aside to let the Floo maintenance man in.

The man didn’t smile back, seeming almost dazed as he stepped slowly into Harry’s apartment.

Frodo, Harry’s Crup, growled viciously at the man, which seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

“Sorry,” he said. “Where’s the Floo?”

“Just through here,” Harry answered, guiding the man into the lounge. “I’ve been able to travel fine, but everything’s muffled when I make or receive calls.”

“I might be a while,”the maintenance man said. “It’s probably a blockage, and it’ll take time to clear it out.”

“That’s alright. Can I leave you some coins on the table?” Harry asked, Summoning his wallet over. “I’ve got to pop out for a bit; I shouldn’t be too long but just in case I’m not back.”

The man was from a reputable company, so Harry didn’t have to worry about anything being stolen, and he would check for anything out of the ordinary when he returned. So Harry left enough coins to cover the service plus a tip, and set out with Frodo at his side.

When he returned, the maintenance man was gone, Harry’s security spells showed that everything was fine, and he could hear Ron perfectly when he called him over the Floo.

It was a perfectly ordinary day, and the last one that Harry would ever see.

He woke at midnight, with Big Ben chiming in the background, and the sound of footsteps moving across his floor.

Harry jolted forward with a start, slamming his hand on his touch-lamp, but the footsteps had stopped and the light revealed that nothing was there. Harry supposed that he’d been dreaming, but he couldn’t help but glance around uneasily, his heart pounding heavily in his chest.

Frodo was sleeping calmly on the end of Harry’s bed, and he’d have definitely let Harry know if there was somebody else in the apartment.

Deciding he was just imagining things, Harry felt himself slowly drift off back to sleep. Frodo woke him not even an hour later.

The crup was pawing at the closet door, letting out whimpering sounds as he scratched at the wood. Harry groaned, rubbing his face as he stumbled out of bed to open the closet door; Frodo never did like closed doors for some reason.

Harry pulled the door, and out fell the lifeless body of the maintenance man.

Harry gasped, clapping his hand to his mouth and staggering backwards. He stared down in horror at the corpse, which was vivid white and stiff with rigor mortis. There was a massive slash on the neck of the man, but only blood stained remained on the skin near the wound; there was no spilled blood anywhere on the body.

Frodo whined, dragging Harry out of his shocked stupor, and he turned and ran to his bedside table, only to find that his wand wasn’t there.

Harry tried to ignore the way his heart was beating so heavily that it felt like it might burst from his chest, dropping to the floor to frantically feel around for his wand. He felt nothing.

The light from the lamp flickered and dimmed, fading into darkness and refusing to respond to Harry’s touch. Harry stood on trembling legs, gathering Frodo in his arms as he slowly opened his bedroom door and peeked around the corner into the lounge.

The room seemed empty, and he quickly tip-toed across the floorboards towards the Floo - only to find that his jar of Floo powder was missing.

Breathing was becoming increasingly more difficult, and it almost stopped completely when he heard the floorboards creak behind him.

Harry spun around, but nobody was there.

He swallowed heavily, taking a deep breath as he moved quickly towards the front door. His fingers shook as he reached for the handle, and as he moved to twist it, Frodo jumped from his arms and ran towards the bathroom.

Harry knew he should leave through the front door, go and get help, and return for Frodo, but he just couldn’t leave his pet behind. If something happened to him while Harry was gone…

He patted his knees, not wanting to call out Frodo’s name in case somebody else responded. Frodo didn’t come running to Harry’s attempt at a call, but when the Crup let out a yelp of pain, Harry forgot all fear as he rushed towards the bathroom.

Frodo was sat shivering on the toilet seat, his forked tail up in the air swaying quickly from side to side. He seemed unharmed, though terrified, but Harry had no idea what had triggered the animal to make that noise - it was unnerving.

Harry caught a glimpse of his pale face in the mirror. He gripped the sink tightly as he stared at his reflection, trying to get his breathing back under control.

Frodo barked loudly again, and very _human_ fingers gripped Harry’s shoulder.

Harry had never moved so fast, spinning around and lashing out with his hands, but they did nothing but slash through the air.

The touch had felt so real, but there was nobody there; there hadn’t even been anyone in the mirror’s reflection. It had to be a trick; something psychological or multiple Boggarts - or maybe his mind had finally snapped.

Gathering up Frodo again, holding him tighter than before, Harry ran to the front door again, grabbing the handle and twisting. Nothing happened.

Harry let out a cry of frustration, shaking the handle frantically but to no avail. He slammed his fist on the door, wincing when the noise spooked Frodo and he jumped from Harry’s arms, clawing at his skin in the process.

“Oh, Harry,” a voice said from behind him, turning the blood in Harry’s veins to ice. “There’s no need for violence.”

“No,” Harry muttered, covering his hands with his ears. “You’re dead. You’re not here.”

Harry knew now that this had to be in his head, because there was no way that _Voldemort_ could be in his apartment. True, his body had vanished at some point during the victory celebrations, but Harry had _killed_ him.

But there he was when Harry slowly turned around, Frodo in his arms.

“Let go of him,” Harry warned, even though he was wandless and totally confused and horrified. He could understand this if he accepted that he’d gone insane, but Harry’s insanity shouldn’t have made Frodo see Voldemort, too.

Voldemort gave Harry a cold smile, flashing two sharp fangs, as he tossed Frodo into the bathroom and slammed the door to it shut with a wave of his hand.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice, Harry?” Voldemort purred, vanishing in a blur and reappearing behind Harry. “Did you think you could destroy pieces of my soul and I wouldn’t feel it?”

Harry froze as Voldemort’s arms wrapped around his front, pulling him flush against Voldemort in a vice-like grip. Voldemort was impossibly strong, Harry’s chest already aching from the tight hold.

Voldemort lowered his head, pressing his face into the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry shivered when a wet tongue licked a stripe up his neck, and he closed his eyes when he felt something sharp rest against his skin.

“I had to find other ways to ensure my immortality,” Voldemort hissed, his voice vibrating through Harry and sending a shiver down his spine. “I must admit, vampirism is a far greater choice than Horcruxes. I have even more strength and power, and a natural thirst for blood which is so very enjoyable to indulge in.”

“But I killed you,” Harry breathed, biting his lip when the fangs pierced his skin. But rather than suction, it almost felt like something was going _inside_ Harry.

Indeed, the longer the sensation went on, the fuzzier Harry’s head felt and the heavier his limbs got, until he was all but slumped in Voldemort’s hold. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up, and it was impossible to resist as Voldemort lifted Harry into his arms and began to carry him to the bedroom.

“You only thought you killed me,” Voldemort murmured as he dropped Harry onto the bed. “But nothing you can do will ever be strong enough to kill me.”

Harry couldn’t even find the energy to lift up his arms as Voldemort climbed on top of him. It was horribly intimate, Voldemort pressing close against him as he buried his face against Harry’s neck once more.

“I’ve longed for your blood,” Voldemort purred, licking the wound he had made before. “Even before I was a vampire.”

And then Voldemort’s fangs were pressing against Harry’s skin, sinking in deep. Harry let out a whimper of pain, trying desperately to raise his hands to push Voldemort away but finding it impossible to gather the energy.

He could feel Voldemort growing hard as he drank from him, and the thought of that made Harry feel more nauseous than Voldemort drinking his blood did.

Harry could distantly hear Frodo barking in the background, and he hoped dimly that Voldemort would leave the Crup alone. But the noises and the thoughts faded as the pain grew, his veins burning while his body grew colder and colder.

The Killing Curse had been easy and painless, but this was torture. It was slow and agonising, feeling his life draining away and being powerless to stop it. At some point Voldemort had pushed open Harry’s trousers and freed his cock, rubbing his own hard length against it. It was humiliating, having Voldemort frotting against him as he got off from killing Harry.

The world was becoming blurrier, the pain easing, as his emptying veins stopped trying to burn through his skin. It would all be over soon, Harry realised, and the thought was peaceful.

He was dimly aware of Voldemort stiffening as he released over Harry’s stomach and still-soft cock, and of him pulling his mouth away from Harry’s neck.

Then there was a wrist at Harry’s mouth, warm with blood which didn’t belong to Harry.

“The choice is yours,” Voldemort’s voice said distantly. “Die or be immortal like me.”

Later, Harry would say that he’d much rather have death over being a creature that literally lived to kill, and be something that would live on while his loved ones died around him while he remained eighteen forever.

But in that moment Harry was dying, and the body would do anything to hold onto life - even greedily lapping up immortality-giving blood from a man who lived to hurt Harry.

It was the last choice Harry ever made as a human, and not a night went by where Harry didn’t regret it.

Not only had Harry sealed his fate as a creature of death, he had committed himself to companionship with Voldemort. It was a fate worse than death, and that was what Voldemort had always wanted for Harry.

And Harry had been the one to do it.

**Author's Note:**

> Please return to [LIVEJOURNAL](http://hp-creatures.livejournal.com/251917.html) to leave a comment for the author. The author will remain anonymous until the end of the fest.


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